


Have Another, Angel

by zerodaryls



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: (it's weed), Awkward Crowley (Good Omens), AziraFeast 2020, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Bottom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), First Kiss, First Time, Love Confessions, M/M, Miracles, Other, Recreational Drug Use, St James's Park (Good Omens), aziraphale has whatever genitalia you want, don't feed ducks bread they'll fucken die, so many miracles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:33:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27631445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zerodaryls/pseuds/zerodaryls
Summary: Crowley, feeling particularly besotted, sets out to spend an entire day encouraging Aziraphale’s hedonism.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 49





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for The Feast of Aziraphale. Because Aziraphale deserves all the good things.

It’d been a month. One month since the averted apocalypse, and Crowley had never been happier. Neither had Aziraphale, which was pretty high on Crowley’s list of reasons to be so damn happy these days. It was relaxing to see the angel so relaxed, thrilling to see him so fearlessly indulgent. They could go for outings, walks in the park, hand in hand, and after about a week of residual unease after witnessing how the other might have perished, they no longer looked over their shoulders, worrying about being caught. Judgement, punishment… it wasn’t really a concern for either of them, now, and Aziraphale seemed especially freed by this realization.

If Crowley had thought he’d seen the angel happy before–say, over a cup of cocoa or a particularly delicious crepe–it didn’t compare to the way Aziraphale beamed with unbridled joy at the smallest things these days. All of his favorite things seemed especially wonderful now that he was truly free to enjoy them without feeling the shame of Heaven. And Crowley didn’t fail to notice this. In fact, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. How could he brighten the angel’s day today, he found himself wondering regularly. What small miracle would elicit the most gleeful angelic smile? Crowley could spend an eternity finding out all the ways to please his angel, and he’d be grateful for the opportunity.

Nothing delighted the demon more than seeing a once-anxious angel’s face light up at the sight of fresh baked goods, or the sound of a symphony recorded on decades-old vinyl, or the swirl of an exquisitely flavored red wine in his glass. It helped, of course, that Aziraphale had the tendency to thank him for everything he brought him. Crowley would downplay it, wave it off as though he hadn’t thoroughly planned every gift he’d given him, but this was only to distract from the fierce warmth that spread across his cheeks, his chest, his soul. Wait, did he _have_ a soul, or was that a strictly-human thing?

Crowley shook his head, setting down his coffee at the small café of which he was to be the first patron of the day. Today was not a day for existential pondering, he reminded himself. Today was a day to thoroughly _spoil_ his angel. He’d decided it on a whim, before crawling into bed the night before. He’d hardly slept from the excitement of it all.

And so, there he sat, waiting for the first batch of pastries to come out of the oven. He’d arrived before the café had even opened, and demanded to have the freshest baked goods they’d ever produced. He wasn’t too rude about it, he didn’t think. Aziraphale wouldn’t have approved, and anyway, Crowley had no desire to add any additional stress to the lives of food service employees. In fact, he left a rather large tip and may even have paid off the young cashier’s student debts with a small miracle on his way out, little pale blue box of pastries in hand. Aziraphale wouldn’t know about that bit, but it brought a smile to the demon’s face to imagine his pleased reaction to such a… a _kind_ act. “Nice” still didn’t do it for him, though it did make him feel Some Sort of Way when Aziraphale referred to him as such these days. Maybe it was the teasing tone in which the angel said it, the little sparkle of mischief in his eyes since he knew he was being a bit of a bastard. Alright, maybe “nice” _did_ do something for him.

Crowley walked from the café to the bookshop, unable to wipe the grin off his face for more than a few seconds at a time as he anticipated Aziraphale’s reaction. Would he know there was something “scrummy” waiting for him in that box as soon as Crowley entered the shop, the scent tipping him off to the fresh baked pastries within? Would he lick his lips, perhaps give his bottom lip a little nibble as he eyed the surprise gift in Crowley’s hands?

Thinking about it was a bit ridiculous, given how short the walk was. He was at the doorstep to the shop in less than five minutes. With some effort, he reigned his feelings in just a bit, returning his face to a more neutral expression, then entered the shop without another thought. Aziraphale had told him a few weeks ago not to bother knocking anymore–that the shop always knew to let him in, even if it was technically closed. It was an awful lot like being offered a second home, and Crowley felt something swell in his chest as he entered what definitely felt like home by now, perhaps even moreso than his own flat.

“Angel,” he called, unable to keep the excitement out of his voice as he entered the back room. He found Aziraphale sat at his desk, frowning at the laptop Crowley had gifted him and convinced him to start using only a few days prior. “Brought you something,” he announced.

Aziraphale looked up, his frown quickly fading as he stood to greet Crowley.

And there it was. The reason he’d gotten up so early. The reason he’d spent half a thousand pounds on pastries and a stranger’s debts. The reason he _lived_ , if he were going to be dramatic about it (as was his unfortunate tendency).

Aziraphale’s smile could cure any disease, Crowley was sure of it. It could make flowers bloom early. It could put a rainbow in a sky that hadn’t seen rain. It could make wailing babies sleep peacefully.

…And it could make a demon do _really_ dumb things. Crowley nearly tripped over himself as he went to set the box down on the little table near the sofa. Aziraphale chuckled fondly.

Christ, Aziraphale’s _laugh_! It could end all war. It could–

“Having a bit of trouble, are we, dear?”

Crowley cleared his throat and straightened his posture, then shrugged. “Shut up,” he said, but there was no weight to it. “Brought you something.”

“Yes, so you’ve said.”

“Pastries,” said Crowley. “First batch of the day.”

Aziraphale _did_ lick his lips, and Crowley couldn’t help but do the same in response. It was a reflex, really. “Oh,” Aziraphale exclaimed, “ _thank_ you!”

Crowley allowed a small smirk, but nothing else. Some part of him still feared going too fast for the angel, despite all the progress they’d made. Old habits, he supposed. Aziraphale had certainly begun to embrace their friendship more openly, but Crowley wasn’t sure if the angel was ready–or even _wanted_ –anything other than that.

The demon plopped himself down on the sofa as Aziraphale went to fetch a dish to eat from. Crowley snapped a set of fine china onto the table before Aziraphale had so much as turned toward his cabinets. The angel turned back to him with raised brows, then thanked him and gave a little wiggle when he sat at the table. Crowley gulped at the sweet thanks received, but gave a dismissive wave, instead choosing to change the subject. “So, are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

“Hm?” Aziraphale dragged his gaze away from the opened box of pastries, unable to decide which to start with. He frowned at Crowley. “ _What’s_ wrong?”

“You were practically scowling earlier, before you saw those pastries.”

Aziraphale smiled. “It was before I saw _you_ , my dear. And I wasn’t scowling, I was– Oh, alright, I suppose I was letting it get to me, _just_ a bit.”

Crowley, still recovering from the revelation that it was the sight of _him_ that had made Aziraphale smile like that, tried desperately to remain cool as he asked, “Let, er, let– let what get to you?”

“Well, you see, there’s this book I’ve been after for quite some time. A book of a long-forgotten philosopher’s, er, well, philosophy. Centuries old, hardly a dozen copies ever made, most of them in entirely unreadable conditions– very rare, understand.”

Crowley nodded, still a little distant, because, y’know, _he’d_ made Aziraphale smile like that.

“Anyway, there was an auction, on the internet, for one of the last known copies, and I had been quite certain I would get it– I’d really placed quite a generous bid! But I lost,” he said mournfully. “And it’s not the first time I’ve been so close to obtaining it, which makes it all the more frustrating, really.” He gave a sigh. “It’s not important, really, but I had quite hoped this would be the time that I– What are you doing?”

Crowley had gotten up while Aziraphale was talking and was staring down at the laptop. “Figuring out exactly what it is you’re talking about,” he explained without looking back at the angel, “so I can–” Crowley snapped his fingers, and the long-sought-after book appeared on the desk. “There. S’all yours, angel.”

When he turned to face him with a triumphant smirk, Aziraphale opened and closed his mouth a few times in shock. “You didn’t!” He stood, then, and moved to examine the new reading material on his desk. “You– You _didn’t_!”

“Seems that I did, doesn’t it?” Crowley threw himself back on the sofa with a sigh.

“Crowley, that’s _stealing_!” Aziraphale might have made Crowley feel a bit bad, if he hadn’t been beaming when he said it. He ran his mesmerized gaze over the delicate cover of the book, then looked back to Crowley with an entirely unconvincing frown. “Really, fair’s fair–the poor man who won the bid will be _so_ disappointed to find it missing…” Aziraphale couldn’t hold the expression for long before he broke out into a pleased grin again. “I really shouldn’t thank you for such a _demonic_ miracle, you know.”

_You never have to, angel. I’d have done it anyway. Thanks or no thanks._

“But, oh, Crowley, _thank_ you!”

Christ, being thanked really _did_ feel good, though, didn’t it? Even if it also made him feel like he was about to melt into the sofa and become a ridiculous, vulnerable puddle of demon goo.

“Oh, this is turning out to be a lovely day, after all!” Aziraphale was practically glowing when he sat back down to enjoy his pastries.

“Day’s just starting, angel. What else can we do? What’d make it even better? Any ideas?”

Aziraphale chuckled gleefully around a bite of something with a custard filling, his little pink tongue darting out to swipe the remainder of it from his lips. “Oh, goodness, I’m sure I don’t know. I’m still enjoying these pastries.”

“Go on and have another. When you’re finished, we can think of something else to do. Go for a walk, or something, f’y’want.”

“That would be lovely, but I think it might rain later. It’s a bit cloudy out.”

Crowley snapped his fingers. “Nah. Perfect weather. Bright as the day we met. Er, y’know, _before_ the rain.”

Aziraphale eyed him carefully, then set his fork down, and dabbed the corner of his mouth with a napkin. He stood, then, and asked Crowley, “My dear, would you like to go for a walk with me?”

“You finished with the pastries?” asked Crowley, pointedly.

“For now, yes. But they’re so wonderfully fresh, I’d hate to leave them…”

“They’ll be just as fresh when we get back.” _They wouldn’t dare to be otherwise._

Aziraphale pursed his lips in a pout. “Well, if you’re certain…”

“I swear it.” Crowley heaved himself off the sofa and ushered Aziraphale toward the door. “Come on, let’s have a stroll.”

Once they were outside, Aziraphale took a deep breath of fresh air and hummed contentedly. “It really is lovely out, isn’t it? Though I suppose that’s your doing.”

“Dunno what you’re talking about,” said Crowley through a smirk.

“Oh, of course not,” teased Aziraphale. He reached for his hand, as he often did these days, and Crowley took it, as he always does, and as he always would. “Well, shall we, then?”

“Where to?”

“Oh, it’s not too far to St. James’s Park, is it?” Aziraphale asked brightly. “Not on such a lovely day, that is. I wouldn’t mind the distance, I mean. Walking with you.”

Crowley beamed, but did his best to contain his blush (in effect, he _willed_ his skin to obey him). “Not too far at all, angel.”

They walked in silence until they reached their destination, both of them seemingly content to be in each other’s presence. Crowley had heard somewhere that a mark of a true relationship was to be able to be contentedly silent with one another without feeling awkward about it. Crowley would happily spend the rest of his existence in silence if it meant never leaving Aziraphale’s side. It would be enough, he thought.

“Ice lolly?” he asked, when they happened upon a vendor’s cart.

Crowley had already paid for the treat and was handing it to him when Aziraphale responded brightly, “Oh, well I don’t mind if I do!”

Crowley smiled, and did his best not to watch as Aziraphale’s tongue licked and licked at the frozen treat. As they continued walking, he cursed himself for not buying a treat of his own, if only to distract himself from the angel’s mouth. And the happy little hums he made whilst enjoying the lolly. And the way he smiled around it when he sucked it between his lips every now and then. And the little “pop” sound it made as it left those red-stained lips, and–

“We should feed the ducks, while we’re here,” Aziraphale suggested.

“Yes! Good! Perfect day for that. Let’s do that.” Crowley conjured up a bag of bread crumbs, which miraculously contained absolutely no real matter whatsoever once it reached the ducks. Crowley had learned some time ago that feeding water fowl was actually, er, killing them, really, and he hadn’t the heart to break it to the angel, who so loved tossing bread into the pond. So, he’d been performing secret miracles each time they went, ensuring that no harm came to the ducks.

He took Aziraphale by the hand and practically yanked him in the direction of their favorite duck-feeding spot.

“Good lord, Crowley,” said Aziraphale through a sudden burst of laughter, “what are you in such a hurry for?”

“Ducks’re hungry. I can feel it.”

Aziraphale giggled gleefully as he let himself be pulled to their destination, nearly dropping his ice lolly on the way. To Crowley’s dismay, the treat survived.

Well, at least he could watch Aziraphale use his free hand to pull crumbs out of the bag as Crowley held it for him, then send them flying into the water. If Aziraphale continued licking and sucking on the treat he had foolishly bought for him, Crowley was fine with that. He just stopped watching. Problem solved.

“You know,” said Aziraphale, after finally finishing the offending lolly and handing the stick to Crowley, who promptly miracled it away, “I think we’ve probably fed more ducks than anyone in the history of Earth.”

“Probably have.”

“How wonderful to think, we might have kept families of them alive for generations.”

_Er, not likely._ Crowley swallowed the guilt, then smiled. “They’d better be grateful.”

Aziraphale chuckled, tossing another crumb into the water. A few ducks swam up to it and battled over what would soon become a nutrition-less wad of, well, _nothing,_ to the winner. Crowley almost felt bad for them, but quickly lost his guilt at the sight of Aziraphale’s smile, the angel still chuckling softly at Crowley’s words. That was worth the disappointment of at least a _million_ ducks.

“Are you happy, angel?” Crowley asked before he could stop himself.

“What?” Aziraphale looked at him quizzically, the smile never leaving his face. “What sort of question is that? Of course I’m happy, you idiot. I’m free, and I’m safe, and I’m with _you,_ and I’ve just had the most mouth-watering ice lolly, and I’m tending to small, helpless creatures, and the sun is bright and warm, and– Oh, yes, I’m more than happy, dear. Thank you.”

And then Aziraphale leaned over. And then Aziraphale _kissed_ him. On the cheek, sure, but it was still a _kiss_ , which is far more than Crowley had ever expected from the angel.

At Crowley’s wide-eyed, frozen stare, Aziraphale frowned and looked away, giving the demon some space. “Er, I apologize, Crowley. That was a bit forward of me, wasn’t it?”

_Be as forward as you want, angel,_ Crowley wanted to scream. But he was still a bit in shock.

Before Crowley could gather himself to speak, Aziraphale was changing the subject. He frowned in the direction of a group of teens that had just walked by. “Good lord, that cigarette smoke smells dreadful.”

Crowley shook himself out of his trance and frowned at the skunk-like stench. “I don’t think that’s cigarette smoke, angel.”

“Ah.” Aziraphale nodded. Then his face lit up in understanding. “Oh, of course! I didn’t recognize the scent, at first. I haven’t indulged in, er, marijuana in quite some time.”

Crowley’s brows reached his hairline, cheek-kiss forgotten. Well, near-forgotten, at least. Placed on the back-burner in his mind, for the time being. “You’ve been high? _Without_ me?!”

“Oh, yes.” Aziraphale gave a light chuckle. “Many times, over the years. I found it a nice way to relax.”

Crowley sputtered a few times before finally saying, “Well, do you want to do it again? We could head home, have a smoke on the sofa.”

Aziraphale cocked his head, considering, then gave a little smile. “That _does_ sound rather nice, actually. Soothe the nerves a bit.”

_You’ve nothing to be nervous about,_ Crowley wanted to say, thoughts of their first little kiss returning to the forefront of his mind. _You’re fine. It was fine. Do it again?_

Instead, he started walking back. Aziraphale didn’t hold his hand this time. Crowley couldn’t bring himself to reach for the angel’s hand, either.

When they reached the bookshop, it was as though nothing had happened. They took a seat on the sofa, Crowley snapped a blunt into his hand, handed it to Aziraphale, and then produced a small flame from his fingertip.

Aziraphale hesitated before lighting the blunt. “Have, er, have _you_ ever smoked?”

“‘Course I have,” Crowley lied, “m’a demon. ‘Devil’s lettuce’, practically in the job description, yeah? I’ve been high loads of times.”

Aziraphale eyed him in a way that let him know just how terrible he was at lying to him, then rolled his eyes with a sigh. “You’d best not have more than one or two puffs. I’d really rather not see you spiral into an existential crisis, amusing though it might be.”

_I’d do anything to amuse you right now, angel._ Crowley shook his head. “Right, yeah, good.” He watched as Aziraphale lit the blunt with the tip of Crowley’s finger and then leaned back on the sofa and took a drag.

Crowley let the flame die down on his finger with a mere thought, his eyes not leaving Aziraphale as the angel blew smoke from his lips. He smiled, then, handing the blunt to Crowley. Crowley eyed it with a frown, silently pleading with it not to make him do anything embarrassing before he took a drag. Then he coughed. And coughed. And coughed.

Aziraphale chuckled.

“S’not,” _cough_ , “not that funny, angel.” _Cough, cough._

Aziraphale continued chuckling until he fell into a fit of giggles. Goodness, it couldn’t have possibly worked that quickly, could it? Or was Crowley really just that amusing? He handed the blunt back to Aziraphale when the angel reached for it. Aziraphale took another drag, cleanly, coolly, while Crowley was still wheezing.

“How–” _cough_. “How do you do that?” Finally, his chest seemed to clear, and he tried his very best to pretend he wasn’t terribly embarrassed.

“Well, I’ve done it quite a few times, you know. My corporation grew accustomed to it,” he said, then took another, longer drag of the blunt before reaching to set it down on the table near the sofa. “And I think you’ve had quite enough.”

“Don’t even feel anything yet.”

“Well, you probably didn’t inhale correctly.” Aziraphale reached out to pat Crowley’s leg. “Next time, dear.”

Crowley, suddenly determined, miracled the blunt into his hand without so much as lifting a finger, then brought it to his mouth, despite Aziraphale’s quirked brow. He coughed a bit more, but less than the first time, thank Someone. Then he waited to feel something.

He _did_ start to feel a bit more relaxed, after a couple of minutes. Aziraphale was sitting across from him, blinking lazily at him with a dumb smile on his face that Crowley couldn’t help but return.

“Would you… be a dear… and take off… your glasses for me?” Aziraphale spoke in slow, broken up phrases, earning a chuckle from Crowley, who complied with the request without a word. Aziraphale brightened. “Ohhh, thank you. You really… do have… such lovely eyes, you know…”

Did he? That was the first he’d ever heard as much from Aziraphale. Well, if it pleased the angel to see his eyes, then he’d never wear glasses again, he decided.

Then Aziraphale kept staring at him, so freely, so happily, that Crowley felt his hand twitch. He wanted to put those shades back on so desperately, squirming under the openly adoring gaze of the angel in front of him, but he’d been asked to leave his eyes exposed. And so he did. He held eye contact with Aziraphale for about eight excruciating minutes before Aziraphale finally spoke again.

“Do you ever think…,” he said slowly, “that perhaps… we were _meant_ to meet… on that wall?”

Crowley frowned. “Part of the ineffable plan, you mean?”

“Mmm, yes… That.”

Crowley considered, then shrugged. “Dunno. Don’t much care. Just glad to have met you at all.”

Aziraphale beamed. “Oh! Me, too, dearessst.” Aziraphale giggled at himself. “Oh, will you lisssten to me… hissing like… like a sssnake!” He continued giggling, until tears formed in the corners of his eyes. “Sssssserpent of Eden,” he managed to say.

Crowley just quirked a brow at him, though inside he was melting under the angel’s glow. “Having fun?”

“Oh, yesss,” Aziraphale said, nodding heavily. “Yesss I am!”

The hissing and giggling went on for several minutes, before Crowley finally dissolved into giggles, too. He wasn’t anywhere _near_ as high as Aziraphale was, but he did seem to be more amused than he might have been normally. Or maybe it was just that the angel’s laughter was so damn contagious. 

Soon enough, Aziraphale quieted down, and then they were in comfortable silence for a bit. Aziraphale broke it a few times to mention how delightfully warm it was in the shop, and how he’d begun to crave sushi, and how nice it was to share the day with him. Crowley listened, but was more focused on trying not to replay the cheek-kiss over and over in his mind. Trouble was, the more he tried not to think about it, the more it bullied him for attention. Aziraphale’s wobbly voice finally broke him out of his circular thoughts.

“My dear, I think I might have overestimated my capacity for– Oh, no. Oh no, no, no. What– Oh, no. Crowley, how does one… conversate? I seem to be… to be… toooo beee… er… losing? Losing something… Realness. My… my grip, so… so to speak, on real realness. Time…? Oh, I don’t like this at all,” he pouted, folding his arms over his chest and slumping further down into the sofa.

It would have been amusing if Aziraphale hadn’t been growing so distraught over it. That was decidedly _not_ aligned with Crowley’s intentions to spoil the angel all day.

“Crow– Crowley, how long– How long’s’it been ssssince I last spoke?”

Crowley thought for a moment, his own high thankfully mild enough to allow such consideration. “About five seconds.”

Aziraphale shook his head rapidly, sitting up and correcting his posture. “No, no, no, no, no. It’s been much longer. Muuuch longer than that.”

“How long do you think it’s been?”

Aziraphale met his gaze, eyes bright and wild and _desperate_. “A few hours?” he asked, as though Crowley would reconsider his answer upon hearing Aziraphale’s estimation of time passed.

Crowley shook his head. “S’barely been half an hour since we lit up, angel.”

“No, no, that’s not right at all, no.”

Crowley sat up and leaned towards Aziraphale, who had begun to sway where he sat primly on the sofa. Crowley frowned at him. “I think we should sober up.”

“But we only just started!”

“Really? I thought it’d been ‘a few hours’?” He’d only meant to tease him, but Aziraphale seemed ready to spiral downward at the mere mention of time, so Crowley put his hands up in a calming motion. “Alright, alright, hey, s’alright. Don’t overthink it. Just sober up with me, yeah?”

Aziraphale squeezed his eyes shut, his face screwing up into the most adorable expression of concentration, and Crowley couldn’t help but chuckle as he sobered himself, watching the angel struggle to do the same.

“Need help, sweetheart?” he asked, unable to hold back the endearment.

Aziraphale’s lip began to wobble, and Crowley immediately felt bad for teasing him at all. He snapped his fingers, and the angel was set to rights. He heaved a great sigh, blinked a few times, then looked to Crowley and gave a small, embarrassed chuckle. “Thank you,” he said. “Oh, that was terribly silly. I suppose it’d been so long, my corporation’s tolerance has lessened quite a great deal.”

“Christ, angel,” said Crowley, leaning back against the sofa now that everyone was relaxed, “how often did you use to smoke?” 

“Well, I _was_ quite prone to anxiety, wasn’t I?” Aziraphale huffed. “Anyway, how was yours?”

“My…?”

“Your first experience with, er, ‘the Devil’s lettuce’, as you put it. Your _high,_ Crowley. How was it?”

Crowley shrugged. “Was fine. Bit dull.”

Aziraphale hummed and gave a short nod. “I don’t think you ingested enough.”

“Wasn’t that interested in it, anyway, f’I’m being honest.”

“Well, then, why on _Earth_ did you suggest it in the first place?!”

“Thought _you_ might enjoy it.” Before Aziraphale could question him further, Crowley added, “And it’s a damn good thing I _wasn’t_ as high as you were. Imagine the mess the two of us would have been.”

Aziraphale opened his mouth as if to protest, and then closed it in favor of chuckling. “Oh, dear, I do believe you’re right.”

Crowley cackled along with him. When the settled down, Crowley cocked his head. “So,” he said, “what next?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” said Aziraphale, still gathering himself.

“Are you feeling _peckish_?”

Aziraphale pursed his lips. “I am, come to think of it.” He brightened. “There are still some pastries you’ve kept fresh, aren’t there?” he asked, as though it was ever in question.

Crowley gave a nod. Then, “You could still save those for later, though, if you want. You said you were craving sushi, didn’t you?”

“I did, didn’t I?” Aziraphale licked his lips. “That _does_ sound good…”

Crowley snapped, and the box of pastries on the table moved to be stored elsewhere, a platter of sushi taking their place.

“Oh! Thank you.” Aziraphale shifted his gaze from Crowley to the sushi, to Crowley, to the sushi again before he made to get up and sit in the chair at the table.

“Don’t bother,” said Crowley, miracling the table closer to the sofa. “Stay here. S’more comfortable, anyway.”

“It… It is, yes.” Aziraphale eyed him for a moment, then picked up the chopsticks and began eating. 

“S’too bad you had to sober up before you ate,” said Crowley after a moment. At Aziraphale’s quizzical frown, he elaborated, “It’s supposed to make food better, isn’t it?”

“Oh, that,” said Aziraphale, dabbing the corner of his mouth with a napkin. “Not really, no. At least not in my experience. It might create a craving, but it’s never made anything taste any different, as far as I’m concerned. If anything, I always had a difficult time focusing on such pleasures whilst high.”

“Really? Thought it helps people focus.”

“Er, in a way, I suppose, but it also makes it more difficult. It’s… A bit hard to explain, really. Anyway, my point was, I am actually glad to be sobered up, so that I can focus on this delightful sushi.” He shot a bright smile Crowley’s way, and the demon could merely raise his brows in response. “And your lovely countenance, my dear. I meant what I said about your eyes, you know.”

Crowley gulped, then sat up a little straighter. “You thirsty? Wine and sushi sounds good, yeah? Let me get us some wine.”

Aziraphale chuckled. “We’ve just sobered up from marijuana and now you want to get drunk?”

“Didn’t say that. We can drink without getting drunk. Done it plenty of times.”

“Mmhm. Well, I suppose.” Aziraphale stood from the sofa, then maneuvered himself around the table to get at the bottles of wine in the next room over. But before he’d even crossed the room, Crowley was on his feet and ushering Aziraphale back toward the couch.

“Let me take care of it, angel, just sit d–”

Aziraphale huffed and stomped his foot, shrugging out of Crowley’s grasp. “Alright, out with it! What exactly have you been on about all day?”

Crowley blinked, frozen where he stood. “What do you m–”

“I mean you’ve been– you’ve been spoiling me! All day! Indulging me like never before. It was lovely at first but, Crowley, you’re being _ridiculous_! What prompted this? Are you– Are you hiding something? Have you _done_ something–”

“I’m not hiding anything! I just wanted you to have a nice day, s’that offensive to you?!”

“No! Of course not,” Aziraphale shouted. “But you’ve been acting… _strange_ all day, and I’m just _trying_ to figure out _why_!”

Crowley threw his head back as he growled before he stared back at an increasingly suspicious Aziraphale. “I don’t know, angel, maybe it’s because you make me _feel_ strange!”

Aziraphale’s face softened immediately, though he was still frowning in confusion. “I… Make you feel… What?”

Crowley made a few awkward noises with his mouth before words began to tumble out instead. “You– You make me feel all… all… _warm_ , and when you smile, it’s like, it’s like– It’s like I was made to worship you. S’like you’re the sun,” he said, glancing up and down and _anywhere_ but directly at the angel in front of him. “Brightest star I’ve ever seen, you are, and I would know, I made some of them. You… you _laugh,_ and I want to– I want to hurl myself into the sun. If the sun’s you, I mean. Wanna throw myself at you.”

Upon finally bringing himself to meet Aziraphale’s wide-eyed stare, Crowley gracelessly shouted, “Not sexually!” He winced, then softened his voice and forced himself to hold Aziraphale’s stare, as much as he felt like crumbling under the unreadable weight of it. “Well, I mean, maybe sexually, a bit, too, but that’s not–” Crowley closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose with a sigh, then returned his gaze to Aziraphale’s. “Point is, I love you, kind of, like, a _lot_ , actually, and I’m pretty sure you know that, pretty sure you’ve known it for a _while_ , but we’ve never really talked about it, you know, and I was never sure if you felt the same way… I mean I _know_ you feel something for me, I’m not dense, but I wasn’t sure if it was the same thing _I_ felt, you know, with… with the romantic stuff and all. So, I kept it to myself, but now you’ve gone and demanded answers, and I can’t deny you anything, angel, could never deny you anything I’m able to give you, you know that, and so now it’s just… pouring out of my lips so clumsily, and I can’t get it to stop. _Fuck_ , make me stop, angel, I feel ridiculous. You make me so ridiculous, so ridiculous I’d spend a whole day just trying to make you smile as many times as I can, and it’s… I’m sorry I ruined it by being… weird.”

Aziraphale blinked at him exactly twice before saying, voice low and _soft_ and far more forgiving of all that endless rambling than Crowley felt he deserved, “Are you finished?”

Crowley opened his mouth to respond, but instead chose to nod, not yet trusting himself to speak again.

“Good.” Aziraphale sighed. “Well, _obviously_ I reciprocate. Good heavens, Crowley. I was beginning to think something terrible had happened, or that today was some sort of goodbye.”

“I could never do that, angel. Could never leave you.”

Aziraphale gave him a soft smile. “I know. I’m sorry for doubting you, dear. I’m still rather unused to this. To our being so free, that is. I’ve been enjoying it well enough, but today was just… just _so_ lovely, perhaps the best I’ve yet to experience so far, and I suppose I got a bit caught up in old patterns. I couldn’t believe something so good could come so easily.”

“Sorry for, er, freaking you out.”

Aziraphale reached out and stroked Crowley’s cheek. “You’ve been _wonderful_ , my dear.” He looked down, then around, then back at Crowley. “You know, if you’re still willing to indulge me…”

“Yes?” Crowley asked, eyes wide and bright and hopeful.

“Well, you see, the thing is… I’ve never been kissed. Not once.”

Crowley grinned. “You want me to kiss you, angel?”

Aziraphale grinned back. “You know, I believe I do. Have for some time, you know.”

“I didn’t know. Might have been less of a hopeless idiot today if I _had_ known.”

“Oh, hush,” chided Aziraphale gently, brushing his thumb over Crowley’s bottom lip. “Now that you _do_ know, are you going to do something with this newfound knowledge of yours?”

“Well, I was thinking about kissing you, for a start.”

“I would find that most agreeable, I assure you.”

“Good. Great. Cool, then I’ll just, you know, step closer, here, and, er–”

“Crowley. Shut up and put your mouth on mine, dear,” said Aziraphale, who promptly put on a bright if not slightly bastardly smile. “If you would be so kind.”

“I– Yeah. Right.” So Crowley did. The moment their lips met, it was like all the air was sucked out of him in a sudden, glorious _whoosh_. Thank Someone he didn’t _need_ air. In seconds, his hands were on Aziraphale’s waist, and seconds later one slid up to grasp helplessly at white-blonde curls as he pressed their mouths together more firmly.

As first kisses go, it wasn’t perfect. Not that Crowley would know much about first kisses, or any kisses at all, given that this was his first. But the clashing of teeth and awkward bumping of noses did very little to throw off their rhythm. Soon, tongues were meeting for the first time, exploring the other, licking hotly into each other’s mouths, and Crowley decided that, actually, this _was_ perfect. It was _Aziraphale_. And Aziraphale was smiling against his lips, and he tasted like sunlight (er, okay, he tasted like sushi and soy sauce and a hint of wasabi, but it was _Aziraphale_ , so the sunlight descriptor still applied, as far as Crowley was concerned), and he kept giggling happily into Crowley’s mouth, and, “ _Fuck_ , I love you,” Crowley breathed against his lips when the kiss finally came to an end.

“Oh, that was lovely,” Aziraphale sighed, his eyes drifting closed for a moment as he continued to smile brightly. Then he snapped his eyes open to fix Crowley with a genuine stare. “Oh, I love you, too, by the way. Obviously. If you couldn’t tell.”

“No, yeah, I could tell,” said Crowley, still feeling wonderfully dazed. “It was in your kiss.”

“Mm. I do wonder…” Aziraphale averted his gaze for a moment, then looked back to Crowley and fluttered his lashes at him as he bit his own kiss-swollen lip. “Might I have another?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was a lot more weed in this story than I intended. Oh, well. I was mostly writing from my most intense weed experience lol do nOT smoke a lot and then start thinking about the concept of time, 0/10 would not recommend, not a good time for you or anyone you attempt to hold conversation with.
> 
> Currently working on the next chapter, which will bump the rating up a notch or two. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)  
> But if secksi times aren't your jam, the story can effectively end here. (:


	2. Chapter 2

As it turned out, Aziraphale was _quite_ welcome to another kiss, and then some. But before he could get too excited, Crowley had pulled away, catching the breath he didn’t need, and cleared his throat before suggesting the angel finish his sushi.

Aziraphale had laughed out loud at that, but, when he glanced over at the abandoned platter on the table, he agreed that he really ought to finish it. He licked his spit-slick lips and reassumed his seat on the sofa. Crowley sat beside him, closer than ever before, even daring to rest his head on his shoulder while Aziraphale ate.

“S’it good, angel? Still fresh, right?”

“It’s perfect, my dear. Absolutely scrumptious.”

Crowley chuckled, wrapping an arm around his middle. “Good.”

Goodness, Crowley had treated him so well. Had _always_ treated him so well. But today! Oh, today would be a day to remember. Of course, there’d been a small hiccup when Aziraphale had grown suspicious of Crowley’s, er, endless spoiling, but now that he understood the demon’s intentions, he was happy as a clam. Happy all over, really. Especially in certain parts.

Aziraphale squirmed where he sat as he felt himself grow more and more aroused. He was moaning around a bite of sushi when Crowley finally cleared his throat and looked up at him expectantly.

“Feeling alright, angel?”

Aziraphale blushed and nodded. “Quite.”

Crowley was smirking as he tightened his arms around him. “Alright, then.” He slid a hand over to Aziraphale’s belly and rubbed it gently, encouraging him to keep eating as he pressed sweet little kisses to his neck.

Aziraphale ate a few bites more before his need could no longer be ignored. He let out a whine as he shoved the table away from him, a demonic miracle stopping it from knocking over in the process, and urged a gleeful Crowley to lie back on the sofa while he straddled his legs. He leaned down and kissed him hard, fists in the demon’s lapels, shoving his tongue into that hot, welcoming mouth almost as soon as their lips met.

Crowley groaned and matched Aziraphale’s passion with his own, hands scrambling for purchase on Aziraphale’s back, tugging frantically at the angel’s coat in a futile effort to get it off of him. Aziraphale decided to help him out by sitting up and peeling the outerwear off himself, throwing it to the floor without much care about where it landed. (Somehow, it landed on his coat rack, which happened to be in the other room.)

Aziraphale’s mouth was back on Crowley’s in an instant, and the demon ran his hands over the sides of his waistcoat.

“Do you…,” Crowley breathed between kisses. “Do you want more, angel?”

Aziraphale whimpered. “God, yes.”

“Please leave Her out of this. Bit of a turn off.”

Aziraphale huffed a laugh and swatted Crowley’s arm. “Touch me, won’t you?”

“I will.” Crowley leaned up to press sloppy kisses along Aziraphale’s neck. “However you want, whenever you want, wherever you want. All you need do is ask. How do you want to be touched, angel? How can I make you feel good?”

“Mm, I– Oh, Lord, I– I need to be entirely undressed. I suddenly feel terribly constricted in these layers.”

Crowley snapped his fingers. “Done. Next?”

Aziraphale gasped at the sudden _whoosh_ of cool air on his skin, the unexpected nakedness adding to his excitement until the feeling tumbled out of him in the form of a moan. “Put your hands on me. Anywhere, everywhere. Touch me. _Throw yourself at me._ ”

Crowley snorted. “I did say I wanted to do that, didn’t I?”

“Yes, and I’ll hold you to it.” Aziraphale ran a finger along Crowley’s jaw, down the length of his neck, and across his collarbone. “Why are you still clothed?”

There was a snap, and then there was flesh on flesh, soft and angled and warm and sensitive. “Better?”

Aziraphale beamed. “Oh, much better, thank you.” He kissed him again. Sweeter, slower, taking his time to lick into the demon’s mouth as his hands wandered the previously hidden parts of his body, fondling, exploring, _adoring_.

“You’re perfect,” breathed Crowley, who’d been doing some exploring of his own, hands coming to rest on a plump bottom.

“Funny, you know, I was thinking the same of you.”

“I really want to make you come.”

Aziraphale groaned at the sudden admission. Not that it was entirely unexpected, of course, but it certainly had an effect on him to hear it stated so crudely.

“Want to make you feel good, have you coming again and again until you’re shaking from the pleasure. Want you perfectly sated.”

Aziraphale dropped his head to Crowley’s shoulder with a whimper and nodded. “I… I would like that.”

“Do you want to come right now?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Aziraphale saw Crowley lift a hand, poised to snap. He huffed a laugh. “Not just yet, dearest. Let’s take our time for the first round, alright?”

Crowley dropped his hand and hummed in agreement, opting instead to mouth at Aziraphale’s neck and nibble on his earlobe. He reached a hand down between the two of them, between Aziraphale’s legs, and started rubbing.

“Ohhh, fuck.”

Crowley chuckled. “Like it when you curse.”

“You foul thing. I ought to– _ohh_ –I ought to kick you out, you know. Send you home naked and, and _unsatisfied,_ for tempting,” Aziraphale paused to let out a particularly lascivious whimper, “f-for tempting an angel to sin. And, and _gloating_ about it! The very– _ooh_ –the very nerve of you.”

Crowley snickered. Insincere protests aside, Aziraphale did little more than curse and whimper and moan as Crowley continued to stimulate him, rutting up against him every so often to provide himself with some pleasure, as well.

“C-Crowley, Crowley,” rambled Aziraphale after a few minutes, tapping on Crowley’s shoulder as if he didn’t already own the demon’s attention. “I– I’m close, darling, I’m close.”

“Good,” said Crowley. “Come for me, angel.”

And Aziraphale did. _Hard_. He let out a moan that turned into a whimper against Crowley’s shoulder, thighs shaking as he saw his orgasm through to its end. Crowley continued caressing him gently as he came down from the high.

“Feel good?”

Aziraphale could do little more than nod and whimper.

“Have another, angel.”

Crowley snapped his fingers, and Aziraphale came again with a cry.

“Too much?” Crowley asked as Aziraphale caught his breath.

“N-No, not too much.” Aziraphale sighed. “Good Lord. That was… Well, that was something, I’ll tell you.”

Crowley grinned. “Another orgasm?”

Aziraphale laughed, shaking his head. “I think I’d like _you_ to come, now. Inside of me, while you’re at it. Fill me with your,” an amused giggle, “your _demonic seed_.”

Crowley blinked up at him. “…I’m not sure how to respond to that.”

“Well, you could start by putting your cock in me, dear,” Aziraphale suggested, wiggling his hips and bringing his middle down over Crowley’s hard and leaking cock.

“Mm, yeah, yeah, I can– I can do that.” Crowley sat up, urging Aziraphale to lie back, then began working him open in no time. When the angel started begging to be entered, Crowley was all too happy to comply.

And it was that moment, that first moment of Crowley breaching him, that made Aziraphale start to cry. He hadn’t meant to get so worked up, but, really, he _loved_ that demon so ridiculously much. Crowley, however, misinterpreted the tears as an indicator of pain, and nearly pulled out in dismay, scrambling to apologize. “No, no! I–” Aziraphale laughed through his tears. “I’m alright, I only just… I love you _so_ dearly, Crowley.”

Crowley beamed. “Love you, too.” He leaned down and kissed the space where his neck met his shoulder, and hummed happily against the sensitive skin there. “You feel so good.”

“Mm,” Aziraphale agreed, “so do you. I… Oh, Crowley, being so full of you, I– I feel as though I’m going to burst.”

“Not before I do this time,” teased Crowley. “I’m following your orders.”

Aziraphale giggled. “Well, if you’re going to do that, then follow this one: _move_.”

Crowley began thrusting into him, squeezing his eyes shut and letting increasingly loud moans spill from his lips. Aziraphale could do little else but be held down and fucked into. Well, whimper. He could whimper. Moan and plead and beg for more. And Crowley was all too happy to give it to him, thrusting harder and deeper and faster, whatever the angel wanted, however he wanted it, until Aziraphale began trembling below him, pleas and declarations of love turning into a string of related words that didn’t quite form any sentences.

“M’gonna come,” Crowley told him, hips thrusting frantically. “Want you to come with me. Come with me, angel.”

“I…,” Aziraphale groaned, “I–I don’t think I have another in m–”

Crowley gave Aziraphale an orgasm with a quick snap of his fingers, and spilled into him soon after. Oh, that was exquisite. Being filled, creamed, like some sort of pastry. Aziraphale licked his lips and continued to moan through his orgasm.

“You quite done?” Crowley chuckled, hips slowing to a stop as he finished out his orgasm.

“It feels so good,” Aziraphale whimpered, rocking himself on Crowley’s softening cock. “Just… a bit more, if you please.”

“Angel, I go on much longer and my dick’s going to fall off.”

“Hmm, well, as long as most of it remains intact. Then at least I could use it as a toy.”

Crowley blinked at him. “That… That’s the most disturbing thing I have _ever_ heard you say.”

Aziraphale chuckled. “Well, I can hardly help it if I’ve become rather rapidly addicted to your cock, dear.”

Crowley grinned dumbly. “Hah, ad-dick-ted.”

Aziraphale quirked a disapproving brow at his chortling demon. “You know, on second thought, please, _do_ pull out.”

Crowley gathered himself and cocked a brow at Aziraphale as he said, “I don’t think you would like that very much. Thought you wanted to ride my cock like it was a toy?”

“You know full well I didn’t mean that.” Aziraphale fixed Crowley with a soft gaze. “I love you far too much to use you in such a way.”

Crowley gulped, then shook his head. “Another orgasm?”

Aziraphale chuckled. “I think I’ve had quite enough for one day. Wouldn’t want to take all the excitement out of it, you know.”

“Don’t think that’s possible. But alright.” Crowley allowed himself to be maneuvered as Aziraphale sat up and pulled him into his lap, peppering his cheek and neck with kisses. “Is there anything else you want? Anything at all, angel? Just say the word and it’s yours.”

Aziraphale shook his head, only dragging his mouth away from Crowley’s skin long enough to say, “Just you, my dear.”

“You have me,” Crowley promised him. “Always.”


End file.
